Chapter Text
It’s eleven o’clock and Wu Suowei hasn’t gotten out of bed yet.
He’s normally out of bed long before this– a force of habit borne out of tight schedules and an inherent drive to shove as much as he can into his day, and carried over from the days he’d had to juggle several other jobs just to scrape by in between auditions before he’d started booking regular roles and a more stable income. Even now it feels wrong, being so idle like this.
But at the same time, his bed feels impossibly soft, and his pillow is still cold, and it’s raining a little outside. Perfect weather to stay inside all day. It’s the first day off in a while, too, in between all the shoots and auditions and interviews and magazine issues back to back to back.
So really, it shouldn’t be so bad, rolling around and being lazy for a day. He really should appreciate it while he can.
Which is why he’s still in bed, blankets pulled up to his ears, scrolling through a manhua on his phone. He’d gotten a WeChat notification from Xiaoshuai earlier, but he’d seen it was a work text and not a bestie text, and half-guiltily swiped it away. He’s not ignoring it, he’s just– saving it for later. Xiaoshuai’s the one who keeps telling him he needs to take more breaks anyway, so really, he should understand.
Another message shows up then, as if on cue. da wei, i know you’re on your phone
Wu Suowei sighs and caves, opening their chat log. The previous text had been fifteen minutes ago, simply asking if Wu Suowei had checked his email that morning.
are you in my walls, Wu Suowei texts back.
have to make sure you’re still breathing somehow, Xiaoshuai responds. Then, before Wu Suowei can text back: check your email.
He rolls his eyes. Fine, he grumbles to himself, be mysterious. He doesn’t think it can be that bad if Xiaoshuai isn’t telling him outright. It’s probably just a memo or something. He clicks out of the app and opens his email. At the very top of the page, marked as IMPORTANT in the middle of all the negotiation threads and schedule confirmations and memos, is an email from one of the productions he'd auditioned for recently.
Wu Suowei blinks, unsure why this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow. He can’t even specifically remember which role this was for. He clicks on it anyway and skims through it. Fairly standard– thanking him for auditioning, congratulating him for getting so far into the process, standard casting email protocol. At the bottom is a note asking him to come in for a chemistry screening with one CHI CHENG, as well as an attached file of the scene they’ll be acting out.
Wait.
He goes back. Stares, as if looking at it too hard will make the characters morph into a different name. Yeah, nope. CHI CHENG, it says there, in bold characters and a slightly larger font. Underneath it, the character’s name. And, oh– Wu Suowei remembers which role this is for now, because he recognizes Chi Cheng’s character. He’s the second lead. Wu Suowei’s love interest.
Well, shit.
Wu Suowei blinks. He closes the app and reopens it again. CHI CHENG remains unchanged. Stubborn, smug, almost mocking. Just like the man himself. Wu Suowei breathes out, harsh and slow through his nose, glaring at the screen.
Damn Chi Cheng. Even now, Wu Suowei can’t manage to escape him.
He sends Xiaoshuai a text– boba later? – and mourns the day off that could have been.
It’s around half past two when Wu Suowei arrives at the milk tea shop. Xiaoshuai's already there, sitting at a table tucked carefully into a corner and watching something on his phone. He walks up to him and smiles when there’s already two tall cups of bubble tea placed on the table. Xiaoshuai lifts his gaze and smiles back, gesturing at Wu Suowei to sit. “Da Wei, you’re here.”
“So,” Wu Suowei says, sliding into the seat across from him, “How unhinged do you think the internet’s going to be?”
Xiaoshuai doesn’t even bat an eye. “Cherish your last few weeks of bliss,” he says solemnly, which is pretty much what Wu Suowei’s figured already. Still, he winces. After a moment of thinking, Xiaoshuai reaches out to place his hands over Wu Suowei’s, and amends, “Or days.”
Wu Suowei lets out a sigh, long-suffering, before he takes a consolatory sip of his boba. Exactly how he likes it. Small pleasures, at least, in the face of misfortune.
“When he’s considerate,” Wu Suowei sighs, wagging his eyebrows at Xiaoshuai.
Xiaoshuai hums. “You’d truly be lost without me.” His voice is flat, but playfully so, and there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he says it that makes Wu Suowei scrunch his nose at him in response.
Xiaoshuai rolls his eyes before his expression turns serious again. “They want you to do a chemistry test on Monday.”
“Yeah, Xiaoshuai, I read the email.” Wu Suowei takes another sip before the words sink in and he freezes, before promptly choking on his drink. Xiaoshuai’s immediately on his feet and rushing to his side, rubbing his back and berating aiyayay be careful, jeez, Da Wei, only sighing when Wu Suowei meets his concerned frown with a sheepish smile after the coughing fit passes. He offers Wu Suowei a tissue that he gladly takes.
“Sorry,” he says, wiping his mouth. “Did you say Monday?”
Xiaoshuai’s eyebrows furrow. "Didn't you just say you read the email?”
“I mean, I did, but–” Wu Suowei blinks when Xiaoshuai digs out his phone, flashing him the CC’d email. Sure enough, it does say MONDAY, 9AM, right next to the dreaded CHI CHENG. He stares. “They didn’t say anything like that in my email.”
Xiaoshuai’s confused look turns exasperated. “It’s a CC, Da Wei. Maybe you just have tunnel vision.”
Wu Suowei prickles, because hello? Rude? He bites back the petulant denial on his tongue and settles on huffing instead, because Xiaoshuai is wrong, and Wu Suowei will not stoop so low as to bother arguing. Regardless, he can’t see Chi Cheng at nine AM on a Monday. That can't be good for him at all. Who knows if he can handle the stress? His heart might give out. He’ll die. “Jiang Xiaoshuai,” he says, very seriously, hands reaching over the table to grasp at his friend’s. “Shifu. I thought we were best friends, but it’s like you want me to die.”
Xiaoshuai looks unphased, pulling his hands away. Rude, again! “I can see why you took up an acting career.”
“I hate you,” Wu Suowei sniffs. “I really do.” Xiaoshuai only shrugs, because he's a terrible best friend. Wu Suowei gives one more dramatic huff before he wipes at the condensation gathered around his cup, lips pursed in thought.
“Do you think if I intentionally fuck up, they’ll cast someone else?” Wu Suowei asks. He knows the answer already, but he wants some sort of validation anyway– no matter how untrue it may be. Xiaoshuai, of course, offers him none of that. He simply sighs again and leans back on his chair.
“You know well enough that chemistry tests between you are just formalities at this point.”
Wu Suowei makes a face, but even he can’t argue against that. He and Chi Cheng are like oil and water on a good day, always pushing at each other, poking at each other’s nerves and trying to get under the other’s skin. But whenever they slip into character it’s always explosive— he wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t.
It’s just that he hates everything else that comes with it. Chi Cheng, specifically.
So he pouts. “Won’t you indulge me just this once?”
Xiaoshuai levels him with a look that says I’ve indulged you enough, which sends Wu Suowei crossing his arms with a huff, his pout deepening. “You’ve had countless projects with him already,” Xiaoshuai points out calmly. “You’ve managed every time.”
“But we’re love interests in this one.” Wu Suowei feels vaguely like a twelve year old on a playground afraid of catching cooties. Xiaoshuai must think so as well, if the little flicker of amusement on his face is any indication.
“You can say no,” he offers, like that’s going to help. “They can’t do anything about that.”
Wu Suowei gasps, putting a hand to his chest. “And give him the satisfaction?”
“Well.” Xiaoshuai says, as he reaches for his phone. “At least you’ve had plenty of practice.” He shows Wu Suowei his screen again, pulled up to a video titled CHI CHENG AND WU SUOWEI BEING IN LOVE FOR 10 MINUTES GAY, and openly laughs when Wu Suowei buries his face in his hands with a groan.
“Shifuuuuu,” Wu Suowei whines dramatically later in bed that night, into the voice note feature. He has a printed copy of Monday’s scene in one hand, holding it up as he lies in bed, “I don’t think I can do this scene with him.”
He sends the voice note and tosses his phone aside with a sigh, going back to the script. It’s not a bad scene, in all honesty— it's from a part of the show, apparently, when Wu Suowei’s character, the deceptively free-spirited, sensitive yet carefully guarded artist Han Ruoxing, has nowhere else to go but his ex-lover’s house— a jaded and much more reserved writer named Zhou Minyu, who still yearns for him despite the difficult past they share. The circumstances force them both into a situation wherein they have no choice but to confront their tumultuous and conflicting feelings. The scene is the resulting aftermath of that, a conversation where the two characters grow tenser and tenser with every word that passes between them, until it comes to a head.
In all honesty, Wu Suowei would love to act out this scene. He can already feel the mild thrum of anticipation in his veins that comes every time he gets a good script. He's already imagining different line deliveries, playing out possible blocking choices and character quirks. He can easily imagine Chi Cheng's expressions, too, his voice speaking opposite to Wu Suowei's.
Goddammit. Chi Cheng. His mood sours, remembering him again.
It’s actually a shame. Wu Suowei isn't going to lie and say Chi Cheng isn't a good actor, because that's just objectively false. He's amazing— easy to work with when they're in-character, because they somehow just bounce against each other so easily once they've gotten in the zone. And picky and snobby as Chi Cheng might be, his character choices and suggestions are always good. He's never failed to elevate the final product itself.
And Wu Suowei isn’t blind, okay— he’ll die before he admits it, but it isn’t like he doesn’t know Chi Cheng is attractive. It’s actually infuriating, how handsome he is, how perfect he always seems to look, how Chi Cheng knows it and is all the more cocky for it. His broad shoulders, his perfectly styled hair, the timber of his voice coming out of those pretty, pretty lips— Wu Suowei shakes his head quickly, shoving those thoughts away. He is not going there.
With a sharp sigh, he sits himself up. He’d known from the start that he’d still do it, anyway. He’s not named Wu Suowei for nothing, damn it. So what if he has to act in it with Chi Cheng? He’d die before he would even consider giving Chi Cheng a sliver of any sort of upper hand against him. And he’s a professional. He couldn’t have been able to come this far without being stubborn.
His phone chimes. Wu Suowei reaches for it, sure it must be Xiaoshuai calling him a drama queen again or something along those lines, but the characters on his screen aren’t that of his best friend’s at all.
No, the text is from Chi Cheng.
The text he’d sent is a simple Ready for Monday?— And yet it sends such an ominous shiver through Wu Suowei’s spine that he nearly throws the phone across the room. He recoils, shuddering, before quickly shooting back, WHY ARE YOU TEXTING ME
Their conversation isn’t much, just schedule confirmations during the projects they’ve worked on together over the years, a few snipes and snarky insults here and there. Wu Suowei doesn’t really want to interact with Chi Cheng any more than is necessary– he sees the man around enough already.
Can’t I check in on you?
Wu Suowei scoffs. Never at all in the time they've known each other, worked together, has Chi Cheng ever expressed an interest in checking in on him. you are so full of shit, he quickly texts back, before turning off his phone, putting it face down on the bed. He glares at the offending device, then at the script in his other hand, muttering under his breath. Stupid fucking Chi Cheng and the way he always gets under Wu Suowei’s skin. If Wu Suowei wasn’t a professional, if he didn’t care so much about his career— he takes a deep grounding breath. Then he gets out of bed to make himself something to drink. Might as well indulge himself one last time today.
When he returns, a mug of hot chocolate in tow, he sets it on his bedside table and checks his phone again: Xiaoshuai has responded with a sticker of a bunny hugging a cat. Cute. Wu Suowei sends back a slew of hearts in response.
Chi Cheng has replied, too, with a voice message. See you on Monday, Wu Suowei. He draws out every syllable of Wu Suowei’s name. It makes him shiver.
Stupid fucking Chi Cheng.
Monday comes sooner than Wu Suowei likes.
Before he knows it, they’re pulling up to the driveway of the production company building, the venue itself being a conference room on the third floor. He thanks the driver and steps out of the car, Xiaoshuai following right beside him, in the middle of a phone call with one of the company’s staff.
He spots Chi Cheng standing out front, against the stair railings, smoking. Typical of him, Wu Suowei thinks with a scoff. He seems to spot Wu Suowei at the same time, because his mouth curls up into a smirk and he raises his other hand to wave.
It’s actually unfair, how unreal he looks— his tall, lithe frame as he leans against the railings, the easy, casual confidence that seems to radiate from every fiber of his being. Wu Suowei tries not to watch as he lifts the cigarette to his mouth and inhales, velvety billows of smoke spilling from his slightly parted lips as he breathes out. Chi Cheng’s eyes shine with something mischievous. Wu Suowei hates it.
“Da Wei,” Xiaoshuai whispers, “Might want to stop drooling.”
Wu Suowei’s face heats up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He ignores Xiaoshuai’s answering snicker and keeps walking, shoving his hands into his pockets and determined not to look at Chi Cheng anymore.
“Look who it is,” Chi Cheng says, standing upright as soon as Wu Suowei’s only a few steps away. He doesn’t even look at Xiaoshuai. Rude. “It’s like you’re there everywhere I go. Da Bao.”
Wu Suowei bristles, fingers curling at his sides. He forces on a tight smile, one that Chi Cheng clearly sees through if the delight that flashes in his eyes is any indication. God, what Wu Suowei would do to wipe that smirk off his annoyingly perfect face. “Chi Cheng.”
Chi Cheng’s smirk widens. He drops the cigarette and crushes it under his heel. “Let’s walk together.”
“I’m walking with Xiaoshuai,” Wu Suowei says stiffly. Chi Cheng tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, peering over Wu Suowei’s shoulder— and when Wu Suowei follows his gaze, he sees Xiaoshuai’s been cornered by none other than Guo Chengyu, and that they’ve commenced the weird little mating game where Xiaoshuai vehemently denies enjoying Guo Chengyu’s advances they’ve been dancing around for months. Traitor. Wu Suowei is so going to get him back for this. Guo Chengyu isn’t even supposed to be here. Where’s Chi Cheng’s actual manager?
He huffs and glares up at Chi Cheng, before marching off, ignoring the ring of Chi Cheng’s laughter behind him and his footsteps as he follows after him. He keeps his gaze resolutely forward, counting the distance to the elevator. He’s not going to look at him. He’s not. But his presence as he falls into step next to Wu Suowei is distracting, haunting his peripheral vision.
They reach the elevator right then, and Wu Suowei curses inwardly when he realizes he's going to be stuck in it with him. For a few seconds at most, sure, but even a few seconds in an enclosed space with Chi Cheng already sounds suffocating. His skin prickles just thinking about it. He busies himself with jabbing at the call buttons, pressing them several times as if it would make the elevator open any faster. He hears Chi Cheng snort next to him. Wu Suowei's ears heat, but he ignores it.
The elevator car is blessedly empty when it finally arrives, after what feels like eternity. Wu Suowei rushes inside— useless, of course, when Chi Cheng walks in right after him. Wu Suowei forces himself not to even glance at him, glaring instead at the little number on the screen slowly going up.
Really, it shouldn’t be possible, how his presence alone is enough to get under Wu Suowei’s skin. Just the faint impression of Chi Cheng beside him has pinpricks already spreading underneath the surface of his flesh, too-warm and uncomfortable. Try as he might to ignore it, the feeling lingers like an ever-present shadow. It looms heavier between them in the tighter space of the elevator, thick in its silence, hard to breathe in like the tension had manifested into a physical yet invisible fog. He's sure that if he looks at Chi Cheng, the man will simply look nonplussed, maybe even teasing. But he won't look, so he'll never know for sure.
The elevator dings, finally, and Wu Suowei releases a breath he hadn't known he was holding. It takes all of his strength to simply keep walking instead of straight up bolting out of there, but he manages.
“Is this really a coincidence or did you somehow get this role just to fuck with me,” Wu Suowei mutters, his voice shakier than he'd like. He wouldn’t put it past Chi Cheng, honestly— that man is probably capable of far worse than this.
“That’s funny,” Chi Cheng says, tilting his head slightly in Wu Suowei’s direction. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
Wu Suowei breathes in sharply. He turns to Chi Cheng, scowling as he pushes a little into his space, puffing his chest, head tilted up at him defiantly. “I’m not the one thirsty for attention between us.”
Chi Cheng’s still smirking. Does he ever stop? It’s annoyingly distracting. And Chi Cheng meets his eyes with a quiet, confident intensity that makes Wu Suowei’s breath catch in his throat. He fights the urge to step back, even as Chi Cheng sweeps his gaze over him, slow, deliberate. Wu Suowei can almost feel the physical weight of it, like a ghost touch, sparking down his spine like a shiver, somehow cold and hot at the same time. He swallows.
No, he won’t give Chi Cheng the satisfaction, not even as his gaze makes heat prickle at the skin of Wu Suowei’s neck, not even as the smug curl of his lips makes it so hard to focus on anything else.
Then Chi Cheng steps forward. “Is that so?”
Wu Suowei nearly recoils, but he feels frozen in place— and Chi Cheng is so close— too close, suddenly— that Wu Suowei can faintly feel the warmth radiating off of him. Can smell the smooth, earthy notes of his cologne and the menthol of his cigarettes. His body feels strung tight, limbs locked, and yet. And yet.
Someone coughs behind them.
Wu Suowei whips his head around— it’s Xiaoshuai, curled fist over his mouth, Guo Chengyu right next to him with an amused look on his face— and tears himself back, barreling away to the meeting room as fast as he can without straight up running. His heartbeat pulses in his ears. Chi Cheng’s laugh echoes underneath, faint, but there.
He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to scream.
Stupid, stupid fucking Chi Cheng.